^ 


'l*5Ei?sSiHi5?l53fl 

001(9'^^  ^'^ 


t\ht<xry  of  t:he  theological  ^tminavy 

PRINCETON  .  NEW  JERSEY 

FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
ROBERT  ELLIOTT  SPEER 


BV  4905  .G67  1915 
Gordon,  S.  D.  1859-1936. 
A  quiet  talk  with  those  who 
weep 


4^ . 


iiu>/«.; 


A  QUIET  TALK 
WITH  THOSE  WHO  WEEP 


A  QUIET  TAL 


WITH  THOSE  WHO  WEEP 


rni-irpy 


nu   2  1959 


BY 

S.  D.  GORDON 

Author  of 
"Quiet  Talks"  Series 


/9/y 


NEW  YORK    CHICAGO    TORONTO 

FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 

LONDON  AND   EDINBURGH 


Printed  in  Great  Britain  by  TurnbuU  &*  Spears,  Edinburgh 
Bound  by  Anderson  <Sr"  Ferrier,  Saint  Marys,  Edinburgh 


A  FOREWORD 

There  are  lone  hearth-fires  to- 
day, so  many !  And  those  who  sit 
beside  them,  with  the  empty  chair, 
cannot  restrain  the  tears  that  will 
come. 

Yes,  here's  the  Bible  close  by. 
But  there's  a  heavy  mood  on  that 
affects  one's  eyes  so.  One  sits 
alone  so  much. 

There  is  some  One  unseen,  just 
here,  within  reach.  But  somehow 
we  don't  realize  His  presence;  it 
does  not  seem  real. 

If  we  would  quietly  put  a  foot 

5 


A  Foreword 

on  the  next  step  up,  and  then 
rise  up  to  that  foot,  we  can 
recognize  His  presence  :  it  is  real. 

Realizing  is  blessed,  but  .  .  .  rare. 
It  belongs  to  the  mood;  to  the 
feelings.  It  is  dependent  on 
weather  conditions  and  bodily 
conditions. 

The  rain,  the  heavy  fog  outside, 
the  poor  sleep,  the  twinging 
pain,  the  letters  in  the  last  post .  .  . 
these  make  one's  mood  so  much ; 
they  go  so  far  in  controlling  the 
feelings;  they  seem  to  blur  out 
the  realizing. 

But  there's  something  a  little 
higher  up  than  realizing.  It  is 
yet  more  blessed.  It  is  inde- 
6 


A  Foreword 

pendent  of  these  outer  conditions, 
whether  of  climate,  or  post,  or 
market,  or  tenement  of  clay. 

It  is  a  something  that  abides. 
It  abides  regardless  of  these 
things  of  such  great  influence. 
Then  the  fire  always  burns 
cheerily  and  warmly,  regardless 
of  wind  or  fog  or  chimney 
conditions. 

It  is  this  :  recognizing  that  Pres- 
ence, unseen,  so  wondrous  and 
quieting,  so  soothing  and  calming 
and  warming.  This  it  is  that 
clears  your  eyes  and  brains,  and 
warms  your  heart,  and  steadies 
your  feet,  and  loosens  out  the 
song. 

7 


A  Foreword 

Recognize  His  presence  .  .  .  the  Mas- 
ter's own.  He  is  here,  close  by; 
His  presence  is  real.  Recogniz- 
ing will  help  realizing,  too,  but  it 
never  depends  on  it. 

This  is  up  on  the  higher  level, 
the  simple  child-faith  level  that 
takes  the  Master  at  His  word, 
and  sings  because  of  what  He 
says. 


This  simple  homely  talk  is 
written  after  almost  a  year  of 
this  world-nightmare  of  war,  in 
the  midst  of  the  terrible  intensi- 
fying of  horrors  that  the  past 
weeks  have  brought. 
8 


A  Foreword 

It  is  written  with  letters  near 
by  from  dear  friends  who  sit  in 
the  dark  shadows.  The  mood 
of  the  war  is  everywhere,  an 
ever  -  changing,  but  never  -  eas- 
ing mood.  One  simply  cannot 
escape  it. 

But  one's  hand  can  still  hold 
hard  to  His  hand  amidst  the  swirl 
and  suction  of  the  rising  waters. 
And  He  keeps  your  feet  steady. 
That's  everything. 

Yet  the  war  but  iniensifies  the 
sorrow  for  loved  ones  gone,  in- 
tensifies it  tremendously,  over- 
whelmingly .  .  .  yet  only  intensi- 
fies it.  For  that  sorrow  knows 
neither  calendar  nor  map.  It  was 
9 


A  Foreword 

here,  everywhere,  before  the  war 
began. 

It  will  remain  long  after  the 
prayed-for  peace  has  been  at 
last  securely  signed  and  sealed. 
Everywhere  and  always,  pain  of 
spirit  eats  in,  hearts  break,  bonds 
snap,  loneliness  wraps  in  its 
clinging  folds. 

And  so  is  the  comfort  always 
here.  Always  and  everywhere  the 
truth  remains  the  same,  a  bit  of 
rock  for  the  feet,  a  warm  hand- 
clasp in  the  dark  of  a  strange 
place. 

Aye,  more,  immensely  more,  the 
Truth  is  a  Presence,  not  a  thing, 
a  fact,  a  statement.     Some  One 

10 


A  Foreword 

is  present,  a  personal  Saviour, 
a  warm-hearted  Friend,  an  all- 
powerful  Lord. 

He  is  present,  and  all  He  is  in 
Himself  is  always  available,  every- 
where. This  is  the  essence  of 
truth.  He  ...  i/e  ...  is  that 
part  of  truth  which  remains  un- 
changed. 

And  this  groundwork  of  truth, 
this  One,  Himself  the  truth,  this 
.  .  .  He  .  .  .  clean  overweighs  all 
the  rest.  Love  outdoes  sin.  Glad- 
ness has  a  big  margin  over  sorrow. 
The  morning  when  it  dawns  will 
make  the  night  be  clean  forgotten. 

And  this  is  the  joyful  truth  for 
weeping  hearts  everywhere,  what- 
II 


A  Foreword 

ever  be  the  hand  that  has  drawn 
the  tears;  by  whatever  stream  it 
be  that  your  weeping  willow  is 
planted. 


12 


CONTENTS 

Page 

I,  BREAKING  HEARTS        ....  15 

II.  IF  THE  GRIEF  DIED  TOO    ...  27 

III.  THE  ABSENT  ONE 37 

IV.  THE  THRONE  VIEW       ....  51 
V.  MAYBE  NEARER  THAN  WE  THINK  65 

VI.  THE  PILOT'S  FACE        ....  77 


13 


BREAKING  HEARTS 


"The  Lord  is  nigh  unto  them  that  are  of  a  broken 
heart."— Psalm  xxxiv.  i8.  """""^ 

''  He  healeth  the  broken  in  heart,  and  bindeth  up  their 
wounds."— Psalm  cxlvii.  3. 

"...  My  heart  is  overwhelmed  :  lead  me  to  the  mrk 
that  is  higher  than  I.  "—Psalm  Ixi.  2. 

"  Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm ; 
Let  Thine  outstretched  wing 
Be  like  the  shade  of  Elim's  palm, 
Beside  her  desert  spring." 

Horatius  Bonar 


BREAKING  HEARTS 

It  is  always  raining  somewhere. 
Tears  are  ever  falling.  Always 
some  heart  is  breaking.  And  the 
rain  beclouds  other  skies.  And  the 
tears  wet  other  eyes.  And  the 
breaking  hearts  make  other  hearts 
bleed. 

Yet  there  would  be  no  rare 
beauty  at  rising  and  setting  of  sun, 
holding  our  eyes  in  grateful  praise, 
were  there  no  clouds.  And  there 
is  no  rainbow  in   the  skies   that 

B  ly 


Breaking  Hearts 

can  compare  with  the  one  made 
when  the  dew-drops  of  the  heart 
reflect  the  rich  colours  in  the  light 
that  shines  out  of  the  eyes. 

And  the  hearts  that  break  are, 
in  their  very  breaking,  coming  into 
the  most  real  touch  with  the  heart 
of  all  the  race,  and  with  the  heart 
of  Him  Who  died  of  d  broken  heart 
The  only  healing  salve  for  hearts 
that  are  breaking  comes  out  of 
hearts  that  have  broken. 

The  pressure  on  the  clouds  be- 
comes greater  than  they  can 
bear.  So  the  rain  comes.  And 
the  pressure  is  relieved.  And  the 
earth  is  refreshed.  It  gives  grate- 
ful thanks  in  greener  grass  and 
i8 


Breaking  Hearts 

browner  soil  and  more  beauteous 
colouring  of  flowers,  while  all  the 
air  is  fragrant  with  a  new  de- 
licious freshness. 

The  pressure  of  the  heart  on  the 
eyes  becomes  more  than  they  can 
stand.  So  the  tears  come,  pressed 
out  by  heart  action.  And  the 
pressure  on  the  heart  is  relieved. 
And  the  eyes  are  bathed.  They're 
cleaner  now  and  cooler  and  clearer. 
There  is  truer,  stronger  sight. 

The  pressure  of  life's  ills  upon 
the  heart  is  ofttimes  more  than  its 
sensitive  walls  can  withstand. 
They  quiver  and  tremble,  and  give 
way,  or  seem  to,  or  feel  to;  even 
while  the  outer  surface  may  be 
19 


Breaking  Hearts 

fairly  well  under  a  proper  control. 
But  under  all  is  a  broken  or 
breaking  heart. 

Yet  no  heart  was  ever  broken 
past  repair.  Though  repairing 
seems  quite  utterly  impossible 
while  the  breaking  bewilderment 
is  crushing  you.  For  the  pressure 
is  relieved  in  the  very  breaking, 
and  need  never  never  regain  its 
breaking  strength. 

And  the  warm  heart-juices 
loosened  out  under  the  terrible 
pressure  have  a  softening  in- 
fluence. They  mellow  and  ripen 
and  grow  into  richer  fineness  all 
the  heart  qualities  of  the 
character. 

20 


Breaking  Hearts 

They  have  healing  virtue.  They 
cure  the  unconscious  hurt  of 
hardening  made  by  life's  easy 
unconsciously-selfish  flow.  They 
heal  the  heart  whose  breaking 
presses  them  out.  It  becomes  a 
better  heart  because  of  the  heal- 
ing touch  of  its  own  breaking 
juices. 

And  blessed  influences  go  out, 
as  mellowing,  soothing,  healing, 
fragrant  balm,  to  the  countless 
other  broken,  breaking  hearts, 
waiting  wearily  on  the  crowded 
street  for  help. 

No  heart  ever  broke  past  mend- 
ing. It  may  not  be  mended.  But 
it  can  be,  even  though  you  feel  it 

21 


Breaking  Hearts 

can't  while  the  breaking's  going 
on.  The  worst  broken  heart  was 
the  one  that  broke  on  Calvary. 
The  tremendous  strain  and  stress 
on  that  great  heart  was  too 
much  for  even  uncommon  human 
restraint.  That  heart  broke. 
No  heart  ever  broke  50,  so 
utterly,  so  overwhelmingly,  as 
that. 

And  so  no  heart  need  ever 
break  so.  For  that  heart,  the 
heart  of  hearts ;  and  that  break, 
the  break  of  breaks,  gave  out 
under  pressure  the  wondrous  salve 
that  can  mend  up  every  other 
broken  heart,  and  knit  together 
the  edges  of  every  other  break. 
22 


Breaking  Hearts 

Since  the  heart  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
broke,  our  breaking  hearts  can 
be  repaired. 

The  weather  has  been  very 
stormy  of  late,  the  clouds  the 
heaviest  and  blackest,  and  the 
downpour  the  greatest.  It  is  not 
too  much  to  say,  very  thoughtfully, 
that  weVe  been  going  through  the 
worst  storms  this  old  earth  of 
ours  has  ever  known. 

The  massing  of  black  clouds, 
the  horrible  growling  of  the 
thunder  so  near,  the  terrific  driv- 
ing of  the  winds,  the  furious 
lashing  of  the  waves,  the  drench- 
ing of  the  rain,  have  broken  all 
records. 

23 


Breaking  Hearts 

Tempest  and  hurricane,  typhoon 
and  simoon  and  cyclone,  seem 
all  rolled  into  one,  and  to  have 
got  a  momentum  terrific  beyond 
words  or  imagination  or  ex- 
perience. 

And  the  wreckage  is  every- 
where. Broken  homes,  broken 
families,  broken  hearts,  broken 
plans,  broken  laws,  broken  tradi- 
tions, broken  honour,  —  was 
there  ever  such  breakage !  No ; 
sober  second  thought  looks  and 
thinks  back  and  solemnly  says, 
"  Never  such  breakage  and  wreck- 
age." 

And  tears  have  come  in  floods 
till  the  tear-ducts  seem  to  have 
24 


Breaking  Hearts 

run  their  waters  clear  out,  and 
only  dry  eyes  stare  blankly,  hope- 
lessly out  over  the  distracting 
beach  of  life. 

Will  the  sun  ever  shine  again? 
Will  the  clouds  ever  break  ?  Will 
the  storm  ever  spend  itself,  and 
calm  come  again  ?  And  the  ques- 
tions themselves  seem  but  an 
intenser  way  of  underscoring  a 
negative,  and  crying  out  despair- 
ingly, "Never." 

Yet  this  is  not  the  full  answer, 
nor  the  right  answer.  The  feel- 
ings may  not  be  allowed  to  over- 
ride the  judgment.  The  tears 
must  not  blind  the  eyes  to  what 
is  there  to  be  seen.  The  storm 
25 


Breaking  Hearts 

is  not  all  there  is  to  be  seen, 
though  its  horrible  growling 
thunder  is  so  deafening  and  so 
close. 


26 


IF  THE  GRIEF  DIED  TOO 


"And  He  touched  her  hand,  and  the  fever  left  her ; 
and  she  arose  and  ministered  unto  Him."— Matthew 
viii.  15. 

"When  He  giveth  quietness,  who  then  can  make 
trouble  ?  "—Job  xxxiv.  29. 

**  Be  still  (let  go)  and  know  that  I  am  God."— Psalm 
xlvi.  10. 

••  Yes,  keep  me  calm,  though  loud  and  rude 
The  sounds  my  ear  that  greet ; 
Calm  in  the  closet's  solitude ; 
Calm  in  the  busy  street." 

Horatius  Bonar 


II 

IF  THE  GRIEF  DIED  TOO 

Let  us  see.  Has  every  thing 
been  done  that  can  be  done?  Is 
the  boat  as  shipshape  for  the  gale 
as  we  can  make  her?  Are  the 
ropes  all  taut  and  well  knotted? 
Are  the  sails  set  best  for  the  winds 
that  blow  ? 

Have  we  done  the  best  to  meet 
the  hour's  need,  the  best  of  gold 
and  honour,  yes,  and  of  .  .  .  steady 
within  there,  steady  ...  of  ones 
own  loved  onesj  one's  own  heart 
29 


If  the  Grief  Died  too 

blood?    Has  the  best  been  given 
and  done  that  can  be  ? 

Yes  ?  Ah,  yes !  Yonder  vacant 
room,  and  this  empty  chair  by  the 
fire,  and  at  meal-time ;  the  memory 
of  the  voice  that  speaks  not,  of  the 
old  laugh  that  rings  not,  of  the 
gentle  smile  that  comes  not,  of  the 
step  that  is  ever  missing  ;  and  that 
little  pile  of  letters  there :  these  all 
answer  a  mute  emphatic,  "Yes." 

Well,  then,  it  may  ease  the  wait- 
ing time  a  bit  to  sit  down,  and,  in 
between  prayings,  talk  awhile  in 
slow,  hushed  tones.  Aye,  and  it 
will  do  more  than  ease  waiting 
time.  It  will  ease  the  tension  on 
the  heartstrings. 
30 


If  the  Grief  Died  too 

The  thing  that  hurts  the 
very  most,  down  under  all, 
is  the  personal  loss.  The  feel- 
ing here  is  too  deep  and  in- 
tense for  speech.  Always  there 
is  someone  who  is  not  here. 
There's  the  one  who  doesn't 
come  now. 

"  The  lights  are  out 

In  the  mansion  of  clay ; 
The  curtains  are  drawn, 

For  the  dweller's  away ; 
He  silently  slipped 

O'er  the  threshold  by  night, 
To  make  his  abode 

In  the  city  of  light." 

A  bit  of  ourselves  has  gone. 
The  absent  one  is  a  part  of  one's 
very    self.     We're    not    all    here. 

31 


If  the  Grief  Died  too 

There's    a    strange,     bare,    gone 
feeling. 

A  part  of  the  life  has  gone.  A 
part  of  the  inner  heart  of  one  is 
quite  gone.  There's  only  an  empty 
space  ...  so  empty  .  .  .  where  he 
was.  And  the  emptiness  aches,  a 
dull  heavy  aching,  even  in  sleep. 

There  isn't  even  a  place  to  put 
flowers  out  maybe,  on  a  little 
hilled-up  sod,  under  a  drooping 
elm.  This  personal  part  is  the 
part  that  hurts  most.  This  is 
where  the  thing  comes  closest 
and  cuts  deepest.  This  it  is  that 
seems  to  hold  the  break  in  the 
heart  from  getting  together  and 
healing. 

32 


If  the  Grief  Died  too 

"  Here  in  this  leafy  place  quiet  he  lies, 
Cold  with  his  sightless  face  turned  to 

the  skies ; 
*Tis  but  another  dead — all  you  can  say  is 

said. 

"Carry  his  body  hence— kings  must  have 
slaves ; 
Kings    climb    to    eminence   over   men's 

graves. 
So  this   man's   eye  is  dim;    throw  the 
earth  over  him. 

"What  was  the  white  you  touched  there 

at  his  side  ? 
Paper  his  hand  had  clutched  tight  ere 

he  died ; 
Message  or  wish,  may  be— smooth  out 

the  folds  and  see. 

"  Hardly  the  worst  of  us  here  could  have 

smiled— 
Only  the  tremulous  words  of  a  child- 
Prattle,  that  had  for  stops  just  a  few 

ruddy  drops. 

^  33 


If  the  Grief  Died  too 

"  Look,  she  is  said  to  miss,  morning  and 

night. 
His— her  dead  father's— kiss ;  tries  to  be 

bright. 
Good  to  mamma,  and  sweet — that  is  all, 

*  Marguerite.' 

"Ah,  if  beside  the  dead  slumbered   the 

pain! 
Ah,  //  the  hearts  that  bled  slept  with  the 

slain  ! 
If  the  grief  died !— But  no— Death  will 

not  have  it  so."  ^ 

And  there's  the  broken  future. 
So  much  of  the  to-morrow  of  one's 
life  was  bound  up  in  the  one  who 
isn't  here. 

It  is  as  if  all  the  morrows,  that 
were  so  bright  with  radiant  sun- 
light,   and    clustering    with    buds 

1  Austin  Dobson. 

34 


If  the  Grief  Died  too 

and  roses,  and  rippling  with  joy- 
ous music,  and  fragrant  with  all 
the  sweetest  subtlest  fragrances 
of  life,  as  if  all  these  morrows 
were  clean  wiped  out  with  one 
fell  stroke. 

And  only  a  dull  heavy  laden- 
skied  to-day  remains,  with  intervals 
of  nights  for  sleeping ;  if  sleep  will 
come.  And  a  routine  of  goings 
around  to  ease  the  sharper  edge 
a  bit;  but  just  to-day]  no  mor- 
row; the  future  is  dropped  quite 
out. 

Future,  plans,  sunlight,  flowers, 

fragrance,  music  ...  all  quite  gone, 

for  he  is  gone.     Only  to-day's  dull 

round,   heavy    steps,    drab    skies, 

35 


If  the  Grief  Died  too 

wintry  chill,  clinging  fog.  The 
cherished  plans  have  gone.  This 
adds  its  sting  to  the  personal 
loss. 


36 


THE  ABSENT  ONE 


•*He  leadeth  me  beside  the  waters  of  quietness. 
He  refresheth  my  life."— Psalm  xxiii.  2,  3  (Free 
translation). 

"Thy  rod  and  thy  staff  (tokens  of  His  presence) 
they  comfort  me."— Psalm  xxiii.  4. 

*'  Calm  in  the  hour  of  buoyant  health, 
Calm  in  my  hour  of  pain ; 
Calm  in  my  poverty  or  wealth, 
Calm  in  my  loss  or  gain." 

Horatius  Bonar 


Ill 

THE  ABSENT  ONE 

Yet  .  .  .  there  is  something 
more  to  be  said.  Sit  still,  my 
heart,  and  let  me  try  to  see  all 
there  is  to  be  seen. 

Let  us  stir  the  fire  a  little, 
that  what  blaze  there  is  may 
flame  out.  And  let  us  draw  our 
chairs  up  a  little  closer,  for 
there  is  surely  some  warmth 
here  by  this  fire,  more  than  we 
are  getting. 

He  is  not  here.  That  is  true. 
39 


The  Absent  One 

Yet  he  is  somewhere.  The 
precious  outer  casket  that  his 
spirit  carried  about,  that  is  .  .  . 
well  it  is  not  here.  We  may  not 
know  just  where,  some  of  us. 
But  then  he  is  not  with  it  He  ,  .  . 
where  is  he?  the  real  he  that 
used  that  precious  bit  of  vitalized 
clay? 

Now  let  the  answer  to  this 
come,  and  linger,  until  it  is  seen 
as  big  as  it  really  is.  He  was 
trusting  Christ  as  His  Saviour, 
was  he  not  ?  Swift  down  under 
all  you  know  ...  in  his  heart  this* 
was  his  trust,  was  it  not  ? 

And    possibly    you    cannot    put 
your  eagerly  reaching  out,  trem- 
40 


The  Absent  One 

bling  finger,  on  any  particular 
word  or  act  or  even  bit  in  the 
letters  yonder. 

Yet  one  remembers  how  in 
the  thick  of  the  trenches,  and 
of  the  awful  smoke  and  fire 
and  din  there's  been  a  most 
unusual  sense  of  an  unseen  Pre- 
sence brooding. 

And  men's  hearts,  once  so 
thoughtless,  have  been  strangely 
caught  and  hushed.  And  your 
prayers  in  Jesus'  Name  have 
gone  up  so  many  times.  And 
prayer  does  not  fail 

And  one  remembers  that  when- 
ever there  is  the  half-turning  of 
an  eye  upward,  homeward,  in 
41 


The  Absent  One 

longing  and  desire  . . .  that's  a  little 
something  that  our  Lord  yearns 
for  and  reckons  with,  and  quickly 
sees  and  eagerly  responds  to. 

Some  come  in  at  close  of  day, 
as  the  tired-out  child  creeps  in- 
to his  mother's  soft  lap,  wanting 
only  rest,  and  coming  for  it  to 
the  one  place.  And  we  know  the 
mother  never  fails  her  child's  acted 
plea.     And  would  He? 

This  is  the  one  decisive  thing. 
Our  one  hope  is  the  blood  of 
our  Christ.  Precious  old  family 
ties,  dearly-cherished  traditions, 
personal  accomplishments  and 
achievements,  treasured  posses- 
sions all  fade  away  now.  And 
42 


The  Absent  One 

this,  this  thing  that  Christ  died 
for  us,  this  is  the  one  thing  that 
stands  out. 

And  if  this  blessed  hope  is  his^ 
the  absent  one's  of  whom  we  think 
this  hour,  if  under  all  there  was 
a  little  of  the  real  thing  of  this, 
enough  for  iffm,  our  Lord,  to  see, 
whose  love  makes  His  eyesight 
so  keen,  then,  ah !  then,  there's 
another  little  chapter  to  add  to 
our  story. 

This  answers  our  question: 
Where  is  he?  the  real  he?  We  sit 
very  still  and  let  the  answer  come 
into  our  inner  spirit-ears,  as  quiet 
and  clear,  as  sure  and  undoubted, 
as  the  title-deed  to  an  estate:  He 
43 


The  Absent  One 

is  in  the  presence  of  our  glorified 
Lord  Jesus* 

Now  as  we  sit  here,  as  we  stir 
the  fire  to  get  more  warmth  out  to 
help  the  inner  chill,  even  now  he 
is  in  thdt  ivondrous  Presence.  He 
has  been  blessedly  changed.  He 
is  in  full  rhythm  of  spirit  with 
things  up  yonder. 

He  is  looking  into  the  face  of 
our  Lord  Jesus,  into  those  eyes  so 
kindly  and  gentle;  and  the  Lord 
is  smiling  into  his  eyes.  And  he 
answers  that  wondrous  smile  with 
his  own  smile.  The  two  are  in 
touch  of  spirit. 

Is  not  this  enough,  alone,  to 
bring  sunshine  down  through  these 
44 


The  Absent  One 

low-hanging  clouds,  till  it  reaches 
clear  in,  and  warms  up  where  the 
wintry  chill  is  ? 

But  there's  more  to  add,  much 
more.  He  is  50  happy  up  there. 
There's  the  music  of  that  upper 
world.  He  is  listening,  caught 
and  held,  thrilled  and  thralled. 
For  it's  a  great  place  of  music, 
of  singing,  up  there. 

Was  he  fond  of  music?  Well, 
he  never  heard  such  soft  rich 
harmonies  as  reach  his  ear  now. 
Maybe  he  didn't  know  much 
about  it,  though  he  liked  to 
hear  it. 

Well,  he's  being  swept  by  it 
now,  even  as  a  fragrant  breeze 
45 


The  Absent  One 

from  over  a  field  of  wild  roses  in 
the  early  summer  blows  softly 
into  one's  face,  at  times,  and 
sweeps  his  spirit  away  into  subtle 
wordless  communion  with  nature 
and  with  God. 

And  up  yonder  there  is  a  throne. 
There  is  a  rainbow  of  exquisitely 
soothing  quieting  green  round 
about  the  throne.  And  a  won- 
drous One  in  a  soft  blaze  of 
blinding  light  is  sitting  on  the 
throne,  looking  out  over  all,  there 
and  here. 

And  round  about  are  the  hosts 

of  angels  with  their  pure  strong 

faces      and     winsome      presence, 

coming  and   going,  some   hasten- 

46 


The  Absent  One 

ing  up  from  the  old  earth  to  tell 
of  their  last  errand  and  get 
further  instructions. 

And  some  are  eagerly  hasten- 
ing away  down  to  the  old  earth 
with  glad  faces  and  outstretched 
hands,  to  guard  and  minister  and 
help  down  here.  And  they're 
singing,  always  singing,  softly 
singing  praises  to  the  King,  as 
they  quickly,  eagerly  go  and 
come. 

And  there  are  the  redeemed 
ones  of  earth,  a  wondrous  com- 
pany from  all  the  ages,  and  all 
the  nations,  gathered  about  the 
throne,  talking,  ministering,  doing 
errands,  busy  with  glad  tasks, 
47 


The  Absent  One 

singing,  always  singing,  and  with 
such  glad  faces. 

Over  yonder  is  Enoch  still  walk- 
ing with  his  Friend,  and  Moses 
with  his  face  shining  more  softly 
than  ever,  and  gentled  Elijah,  and 
Isaiah  with  vision  clearer  than 
ever,  and  Paul  down  on  his  face 
again,  but  in  wonder  and  worship, 
all  softly  singing. 

And  here  are  some  that  he  . .  .  our 
loved  one  .  .  .  knew.  The  one  he 
loved  so  tenderly,  and  who  slipped 
away  that  early  dawning  from 
your  clinging  grasp  and  his  .  .  . 
theyre  together  now  in  gladdest 
reunion. 

And  the  children  are  there,  hosts 
48 


The  Absent  One 

and  hosts  of  them,  babies  of 
months,  and  babies  of  wee  years, 
and  growing  children  each  tenderly 
cared  for,  and  each  growing,  ever 
wondrously  growing  in  that  won- 
drous atmosphere,  and  all  singing, 
always  singing,  whatever  else  may 
be  going  on. 

And  he  is  part  of  all  this.  And 
he  is  growing  too ;  growing  in  his 
mental  powers,  growing  in  his 
understanding  of  the  reason  of 
things,  growing  in  knowledge,  and 
in  the  fine  graces  of  strength  and 
beauty.  And  most  of  all  growing 
in  love,  which  is  the  perfection  of 
strength  and  beauty  and  life. 


49 


THE  THRONE  VIEW 


"  Be  silent  to  God,  and  let  Him  mould  thee."— Psalm 
xxxvii.  7  (Luther's  translation). 

"He  that  goeth  aside  to  sit  quietly  in  the  secret 
place  with  the  Most  High,  will  find  Him  coming  over 
so  close  that  this  man  shall  be  lodging  under  the  very 
shadow  of  the  Almighty."  —  Psalm  xci.  i  (Free 
translation). 

"  Calm  in  the  sufferance  of  wrong, 
Like  Him  who  bore  my  shame; 
Calm,  'mid  the  threatening,  taunting  throng, 
Who  hate  Thy  holy  Name." 

Horatius  Bonar 


IV 

THE  THRONE  VIEW 

But  does  he  know  about  us 
down  here ;  about  just  asy  here  by 
the  old  family  hearth-fire  ? 

And  does  he  know  about  how 
things  are  still  going  on  down  here, 
the  awful  war  still  on  and  even 
getting  worse,  the  distress  and 
sorrow,  the  hunger  and  suffering, 
the  awful  moral  tragedies,  and  .  .  . 
and  .  .  .  the  loneliness,  and  .  .  . 
all  the  rest  of  it :  does  he  know  ? 

And  if  he  does  how  can  he  be 
S3 


The  Throne  View 

happy?  How  can  one  ever  be 
happy  again  who  knows  even  a 
little  of  what  has  happened  just 
this  year  .  .  .  how  can  he  ? 

And  the  rush  of  uncontrolled 
emotion  comes  anew.  And  the 
break  in  the  heart  begins  bleeding 
afresh.  And  one  of  those  great 
flushes  of  feeling  sweeps  over  you 
as  you  ask. 

You  may  let  it  out.  Some  can 
and  do.  You  may  keep  it,  most 
of  it,  under  the  lock  and  key  of 
strong  restraint.  Some  can  and 
do.  And  they  feel  the  wear  on 
the  inner  wheels  all  the  more. 

How  can  he  ?  .  .  .  They  up  there 
.  .  .  how  can  they  ?  Well,  you  see, 
54 


The  Throne  View 

you  have  dropped  your  eyes  a  little, 
until  you  see  only  part,  the  dis- 
tressing weeping  breaking  part. 
But  they  can  see  all  That's  the 
answer  to  your  ^^how?'' 

There's  a  throne  up  yonder. 
They  are  getting  the  throne  view. 
They're  under  the  blessed  brood- 
ing spell  of  the  quieting  green 
rainbow  which  the  throne-light 
makes  as  it  shines  out. 

Over  all  our  world  there's  a 
throne ;  there  is  control ;  there 
is  mastery.  There  is  an  eye 
that  never  slumbers,  but  instead 
watches  sleeplessly  with  love's 
sleeplessness.  There  is  a  sensi- 
tive hand  laid  on  the  pulse  of  the 
55 


The  Throne  View 

old  earth's  life.  There's  a  master- 
ful hand  on  the  helm. 

He  .  .  .  the  one  you  are  thinking 
of  ...  he  sees  all  this.  He  doesn't 
know  all.  Ah  !  he's  just  beginning 
his  lessons  in  knowing.  But  he 
does  know  enough  to  steady  him, 
while  the  rest  is  working  out. 

Suppose  we  let  him,  the  one  you 
are  thinking  of,  help  us  here  a 
little.  That  is,  let  us  try  to  see 
things  a  bit  as  he  sees  them  up 
there.  Let  us  try  to  get  some- 
thing of  the  throne  view. 

We'll  draw  our  Bibles  over  and 
recall  some  of  the  things  the  Book 
tells.  And  he,  his  presence  yonder 
.  .  .  what  we  know  that  he  does 

56 


The  Throne  View 

know,  this  will  help  us.  It  will 
make  it  all  more  real  and  personal. 

What  we're  needing  most  is  the 
throne  vie^w.  We  need  to  see 
things  as  our  Lord  Jesus  sees 
them.  That  will  help  us  greatly 
as  our  feet  press  the  common  clay, 
our  common  round  of  life. 

The  present  time  is  not  all  the 
time  there  is.  There  is  more 
coming  after  this.  And  the  more 
will  be  a  different  sort  from  this. 
And  it  will  change  the  whole 
look  of  things.  And— may  be — it'll 
come  soon,  this  other  different 
sort,  sooner  than  any  of  us  now 
think. 

This  horrible  riot  of  blood  and 
57 


The  Throne  View 

din,  of  smoke  and  confusion,  of 
suffering  and  wrong  and  in- 
humanity, this  breaking  of  all 
honour  and  right  and  pledged 
word,  this  is  not  God's  plan. 

This  tangle  of  tragedies  and 
horrid  discord  of  noises,  this  stifl- 
ing nightmare,  this  is  all  dead- 
set  against  God's  plan.  It  runs 
straight  across  the  grain  of  God's 
plan.  It  hurts  His  heart  more 
than  it  does  ours. 

It  is  a  result  of  man's  freedom; 
only  this  ;  all  of  this.  This  is  the 
one  only  explanation.  This  is  the 
image  of  God  in  which  we  were 
made  . . .  this  freedom  of  choice  and 
action.  And  this  hell-thing  called 
58 


The  Throne  View 

war,  now  in  its  superlative  degree, 
this  is  a  result,  one  result,  of 
man's  freedom.  That  is  one  thing 
to  see  clearly. 

The  present  is  not  the  whole. 
It's  only  a  part.  Ifs  only  a 
hyphen,  a  thing  in  between. 
There's  something  coming  after 
the  hyphen,  this  bloody  tangled 
tangling  hyphen. 

There  is  a  change  coming.  It 
will  be  a  radical  change.  It  will 
be  a  blessed  change.  It  will  be 
a  change  back  to  original  Eden 
conditions. 

Some  day  our  Lord  Jesus  is 
coming  back.  The  blue  that 
opened   to    let   Him  through  and 

59 


The  Throne  View 

up,   will  open  again   to    let    Him 
through  and  down. 

He  will  come  in  great  glory 
just  as  He  naturally  is.  His 
glory  was  hidden  before,  for  the 
sake  of  our  eyes.  No  one  knows 
when  He  will  come.  But,  mark 
you  keenly,   when   He  does  come 

I 
•  .  .  • 

That  fire  is  doing  better  now, 
isn't  it?  That  stirring  up  of  the 
fagot  did  good.  We  are  getting 
a  bit  warmer  now.  The  chill  is 
less  marked.  Give  that  big  log 
there  a  turn  .  .  .  so  .  .  .  that's 
good!    Now  well  go  on. 

When  He  does  come,  it  will  not 
be  to  wind  things  up,  to  close 
60 


The  Throne  View 

things  up.  It  will  be  to  begin 
things  anew  on  the  old  earth,  on 
the  original  plan. 

Yes,  there  will  be  some  radical 
changes  at  the  beginning  of  the 
new  order  of  things.  But  chiefly 
it  will  be  a  fresh  start  on  the 
original  plan  of  life  on  this  same 
old  earth,  as  first  planned  by  God. 

There  will  be  no  war  then. 
There  will  be  a  gradual  cessation 
of  sickness  and  death  until  these 
are  largely,  almost  wholly  un- 
known. Envy,  hatred,  jealousy, 
bickering,  fighting,  rivalries  of  the 
bad  sort  and  of  the  not-good  sort 
.  .  .  these  will  be  gone. 

Pain,  hunger,  poverty,  weak- 
6i 


The  Throne  View 

ness,  distressing  partings,  ignor- 
ance, passion,  prejudice,  super- 
stition, gradually  these  will  go 
until  they  will  be  almost  for- 
gotten. It  will  be  a  reign  of 
love,  on  this  same  old  earth,  with 
the  present  laws  of  living,  learn- 
ing, growing,  serving,  all  in  full 
sway,  but  in  a  natural  way. 

The  common  word  for  it  all 
is  Kingdomy  the  thing  we  all  pray 
daily  to  come.  The  atmosphere 
of  it  will  be  an  atmosphere  of 
love— strong,  pure,  true  love. 

The    purpose    of   it    will  be  to 

let  men  really  get  acquainted  with 

God,    and    God's   way    of  things. 

They  will  be  finding  how  life  will 

62 


The  Throne  View 

be  when  God  is  let  in  as  freely  as 
is  natural,  both  to  life  and  to 
Him. 

There'll  be  need  of  helpers  in 
that  day,  great  need  of  trained, 
tested,  trusty  helpers.  This  pre- 
sent time  is  part  of  our  school- 
time.  And  so  is  the  present 
interval  with  those  who  have 
been  taken  up  and  away. 

Our  loved  ones  who  have  been 
taken  from  our  clinging  grasp  are 
in  school  They  are  in  training. 
They  are  being  got  ready  for  the 
service  of  the  Kingdom  time  that's 
coming  down  on  the  old  earth. 


63 


MAYBE  NEARER 
THAN  WE  THINK 


*'Sit  still,  my  daughter,  until  thou  know  how  the 
matter  will  fall :  for  the  man  will  not  rest  until  he  have 
finished  the  thing."— Ruth  iii.  i8. 

"He  maketh  the  storm  a  calm,  so  that  the  waters 
thereof  are  still."— Psalm  cvii.  29. 

"  He  rebuked  the  winds  and  the  sea,  and  there  was 
a  great  calm."— Matthew  viii.  26. 


"  Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 
Soft  resting  on  Thy  breast ; 
Soothe  me  with  holy  hymn  and  psalm, 
And  bid  my  spirit  rest." 

Horatius  Bonar 


V 

MAYBE  NEARER  THAN 
WE  THINK 

That  day  may  be  much  nearer 
than  we  think.  He,  our  Lord 
Jesus,  may  be  much  closer  in  His 
return  than  any  of  us  suspect. 

''Some  glorious  morn— but  when?     Ah 

who  shall  say  ? 
The  steepest  mountain  will  become  a  plain, 
And  the  parched  land  be  satisfied    with 

rain. 
The  gates  of  brass  all  broken  ;  iron  bars, 
Transfigured,  form  a  ladder  to  the  stars. 
Rough  places    plain,  and    crooked    ways 

all  straight, 

67 


Maybe  Nearer 

For  him    who  with  a  patient  heart  can 

wait. 
These  things  shall  be  on  God's  appointed 

day : 
It  may  not  be  to-morrow— yet  it  may." 

It  is  quite  possible  —  yes,  a 
stronger  word  can  be  used  there 
— it  is  probable  that  our  generation 
will  see  this  great  change  in  the 
order  of  things.  Some  of  us  may 
actually  see  Him  coming  down 
out  of  the  blue. 

The  very  darkness  of  the  night 
speaks  of  the  coming  of  the  new 
day. 

"  It  darkens  to  the  dawning 
More  than  in  all  the  night ; 
Earth's  shadows  cast  an  awning 
Just  round  the  gates  of  light. 

68 


Than  We  Think 

"  O'er  the  horizon  nearest 

Lie  balanced  light  and  shade, 
And  where  the  light  is  clearest 
The  dark  is  darkest  made."  ^ 

And  now  there's  another  warm- 
ing, helping  bit  here.  We'll  put 
another  log  on  the  fire.  When 
He  does  come,  these  loved  ones 
of  ours  who  are  with  Him  now, 
they  "will  come  with  Htm, 

Some  day  we  will  suddenly  notice 
that  the  sun's  light  at  its  noon- 
brightness  has  become  a  shadcnv. 
Startled,  we  shall  look  up  to  see 
a  brighter  shining  above  the  sun. 

There  will  be  a  break  in  the 
blue  over  our  heads,  and  out  of  it 
will  come  the  Lord  Jesus  Himself. 

^  F.  W.  Robertson,  of  Brighton. 

69 


Maybe  Nearer 

The  brightness  of  His  Person  will 
outshine  all  else. 

Then  some  very  swift  and  very 
wondrous,  though  simple,  trans- 
formations will  take  place.  It'll  all 
be  quicker  than  the  words  can  be 
told. 

These  dear  bodies  of  our  loved 
ones  that  have  been  laid  away  will 
know  the  touch  of  a  new  life 
coming  into  them,  as  their  former 
dwellers  shall  re-enter  them  and 
rise  up  into  the  presence  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  in  the  air. 

"How  can  we  know  that  the  flowers  will 
bloom, 
When  blue,  and  scarlet,  and  gold, 
Lighting  no  more  the  forest's  gloom, 
Lie  slain  by  the  frost  and  cold  ? 

70 


Than  We  Think 

"  How  can  we  tell  that  the  birds  again 
Will  warble  from  leafy  spray  ? 
Garden,  and  copse,  and  wood,  and  fen, 
Saw  them  all  fly  away. 

"  And  yet,  serenely,  for  bird  and  flower 
We  wait  spring's  fragrant  breath. 
Faint  hearts,  shall  we  not  trust  His  power 
To  lift  tlie  veil  of  deatli  ?  '' 

How  can  we  know  this  other 
spring  is  coming?  Very  simply. 
We  have  His  Word  pledged  to  us. 
And,  under  that,  we  have  the  yet 
more  sacred  pledge  of  His  blood 
shed  for  us. 

And  beyond  that  we  have  the 
yet  more  joyous  pledge  of  His  new 
life  rising  up  out  of  death  and  being 
lived  for  us.  A  three-fold  cord  that 
cant  be  broken. 

71 


Maybe  Nearer 

So  the  spring  is  coming,  this  new 
blessed  Kingdom  springtime,  with 
its  wondrous  new  life  for  those 
we've  loved  long  since,  and  lost  .  .  . 
but  only  for  a  little  while. 

Then  we  who  are  living,  who 
have  courteously  waited,  and  given 
these  loved  ones  precedence, 
then  we  too  shall  know  a  Divine 
change  in  our  bodies,  making 
them  answer  to  a  new  law  of 
gravitation   upward. 

And  we  shall  all  at  once  find  our- 
selves up  with  Him  and  with  them. 
And  then  with  them  and  with 
Him  we  shall  share  in  the  blessed 
earthly  ministry  of  the  Kingdom 
time. 

72 


Than  We  Think 

"  Out  of  the  chill  and  the  shadow 

Into  the  thrill  and  the  shine ; 
Out  of  the  dearth  and  the  famine 

Into  the  fullness  Divine. 
Up  from  the  strife  and  the  battle 

(Oft  with  the  shameful  defeat), 
Up  to  the  palm  and  the  laurel, 

Oh,  but  the  rest  will  be  sweet ! 

"  Leaving  the  cloud  and  the  tempest, 

Reaching  the  balm  and  the  cheer, 
Finding  the  end  of  our  sorrow, 

Finding  the  end  of  our  fear. 
Seeing  the  face  of  the  Master. 

Yearned  for  in  *  distance  and  dream,* 
Oh,  for  that  rapture  of  gladness  ! 

Oh,  for  that  vision  supreme ! 

"  Meeting  the  dear  ones  departed. 

Knowing  them,  clasping  their  hands, 
All  the  beloved  and  true-hearted 

There  in  the  fairest  of  lands  ! 
Sin  evermore  left  behind  us. 

Pain  nevermore  to  distress ; 
Changing  the  moan  for  the  music, 

Living  the  Saviour  to  bless. 

73 


Maybe  Nearer 

"There  we  shall  learn  the  sweet  meanings 

Hidden  to-day  from  our  eyes  ; 
There  we  shall  waken  like  children 

Joyous  at  gift  and  surprise. 
Come  then,  dear  Lord,  in  the  gloaming. 

Or  where  the  dawning  is  gray ! 
Take  us  to  dwell  in  the  presence — 

Only  Thyself  lead  the  way. 

"  Out  of  the  chill  and  the  shadow. 

Into  the  thrill  and  the  shine ! 
Out  of  the  dearth  and  the  famine, 

Into  the  fullness  Divine. 
Out  of  the  sigh  and  the  silence, 

Into  the  deep-swelling  song  ! 
Out  of  the  exile  and  bondage, 

Into  the  home-gathered  throng."^ 

This  is  the  throne  viewj  the  upper 
view,  the  fuller  view.  It  fits  this 
present  sore  time  into  its  niche  in 
the  whole    sweep    of   our   Lord's 

^  Margaret  E.  Sangster. 

74 


Than  We  Think 

plan.      And    this    wholly  changes 
the  outlook. 

This  is  the  view  our  loved  ones 
have  up  in  the  Master's  presence. 
And  we  may  have  it  and  keep  it, 
too,  if  we  will.  And  50,  many 
questions  will  be  answered  and 
much  of  the  heartache  eased. 


75 


THE  PILOT'S  FACE 


"In    the   midst   of   you   standeth    One    whom    ye 
recognize  not." — John  i.  26. 

"Jesus  stood  on  the  beach:  yet  the  disciples  dis- 
cerned not  that  it  was  Jesus."— John  xxi.  4. 

"And  lo,  I  am  with  you  all  the  days." — Matthew 
xxviii.  20. 

"  A  garden  is  a  lovesome  thing,  God  wot ; 
Rose  plot, 

Fringed  pool, 
Fern'd  grot — 
The  veriest  school 
Of  peace ;  and  yet  the  fool 

Contends  that  God  is  not — 
Not  God  1  In  gardens !    When  the  eve  is  cool ! 

Nay,  but  I  have  a  sign  ; 
'Tis  very  sure  God  walks  in  mine." 


VI 

THE  PILOT'S  FACE 

But— meanwhile — there's  a  mean- 
while.  There's  a  waiting  time, 
before  the  storm  clears.  And  we 
must  needs  live  through  this  wait- 
ing time.  The  road  up  to  the  hill- 
top where  the  air  is  bracing  and 
sunshiny,  that  road  leads  through 
a  valley. 

It  goes  down  before  turning  up. 
It  may  even  go  further  down  be- 
fore the  turn-up  is  reached.  And 
the  valley  is  apt  to  be  damp  and 
79 


The  Pilot's  Face 

chill.  Raw  winds  blow  there. 
The  sun  doesn't  get  through  for 
days  at  a  time,  sometimes.  And 
the  fog  of  the  valley  wraps  you 
about  with  a  close  clinging 
clammy  fold. 

And  we  are  in  this  valley.  The 
hill-top's  there,  that  we  have  been 
looking  at,  from  which  one  can 
see  all  The  valley  is  only  a  part, 
the  sun-lit  hill  is  the  greater  part. 

But  we  are  so  apt  to  get  the 
vdley  moody  and  let  our  eyes  drop 
instead  of  keeping  them  lifted  up 
to  the  hills.  Well  there  is  a  bit  of 
vdlley-truth  for  us  valley-travellers 
to  warm  by. 

Let  us  put  another  log  on  the 
80 


The  Pilot's  Face 

fire,  a  good-sized  log  this  time, 
one  that  is  well-seasoned  and  will 
kindle  quickly,  and  burn  brightly 
and  send  out  a  good  glow  of  heat. 
And  let  us  clear  the  ashes  a  bit  so 
that  the  fresh  air  can  get  to  fire 
and  log. 

Here  is  the  simple  but  wondrous 
bit  of  meanwhile  truth,  the  vattey 
truths  to  cheer  the  lower  road : 
there  is  Somebody  by  your  side. 
When  youVe  alone ;  you're  not 
alone  He's  there. 

The  angels  of  the  Lord  are 
round  about.  Yes ;  but  this  One, 
the  Lord  Himself  is  inside  that 
angel-circle,  nearer  than  they. 

But  our  eyesight  is  a  bit  blurred. 
^  8i 


The  Pilot's  Face 

Maybe  it  is  like  Mary*s  in  the 
garden.^  Her  tear-misted  eyes 
thought  she  saw  a  gardener,  but  tt 
was  Jesus.  And  He  had  come  there 
just  for  her.  He  spoke  her  name. 
Then  she  knew.     And  all  changed. 

Suppose  you  get  still  a  bit  .  .  . 
quiet  .  .  .  and  listen.  You'll  hear 
your  name  in  the  same  voice.  And 
there'll  come  the  same  change  as 
with  Mary.  One  sound  of  His 
quiet  voice  will  change  everything 
for  you.  Reach  out  your  hand 
sometime  as  you  sit  alone.  Hes 
there  by  your  side  now. 

We  are  bothered,  sometimes, 
like    the    seven  men  in  the  boat 

1  John  XX.  1-18. 

82 


The  Pilot's  Face 

that  grey  dawn  on  Galilee's  blue 
waters.^  A  long  night  it  had  been, 
and  they  were  tired  in  body  and 
more  tired  in  heart. 

There  seemed  no  outlook,  nor 
aplook.  Only  a  discouraging  in- 
look  and  the  despairing  downlook. 
But  they  were  wrong.  That 
"seemed"  wasn't  right.  Jesus 
was  there,  close  up. 

He  was  talking  with  them,  con- 
cerned about  them,  making  a  fire 
to  warm  their  cold,  and  broiling 
fish  to  feed  their  hunger.  What 
a  Saviour  to  think  of  such  things, 
just  as  a  thoughtful  mother  would 
do !    And  His  presence  being  recog- 

^  John  xxi.  1-14. 

83 


The  Pilot's  Face 

nized  made  outlook  and  uplook  and 
glad-look. 

Are  you  and  I  like  them  ?  . .  .  eyes 
down  .  .  .  heart  down  ?  But  He  is 
here.  Listen  to  Him.  Sit  still  with 
Him  a  bit.  Sing  to  Him  a  snatch  or 
two  of  praise  for  what  He  is,  and 
what  He  is  going  to  do. 

"  I  have  not  seen  His  face — 

Not  yet,  not  yet ! 
But  oft  beside  my  own 

His  feet  are  set, 
And  I'll  no  strangeness  feel, 

No  chill  surprise, 
That  glad  day  when  He  bids 

Me  lift  mine  eyes. 

"  If  I  have  felt  His  touch 
I  am  not  sure. 
But  when  earth-sorrows  grow 
Past  all  earth's  cure, 

84 


The  Pilot's  Face 

Comes  there  such  sense  of  Him 

So  close,  so  dear. 
That  mine  own  blood  and  breath 

Seem  not  more  near. 

"  I  have  not  heard  His  voice, 

That,  too,  I  wait ; 
And  not  so  much  I  pray 

The  opening  gate. 
And  all  that  shows  or  sings 

Dark  Jordan  past. 
As  but  to  hear  Him  speak 

At  home  at  last."  ^ 

And  as  we  sit  in  stillness,  and 
say  to  ourselves,  **  He  is  here," 
something  else  comes.  We  re- 
member that  He  has  been  here 
before.  This  road  I'm  on — this  is 
no  new  road  to  Him.  And  it  was 
a  rougher  road  then. 

*  William  Hervey  Woods. 

85 


The  Pilot's  Face 

"  Rougher  ? "  you  say  instinc- 
tively, without  stopping  to  think, 
while  your  hand  goes  to  your 
heart.  Then  as  you  think  a  bit 
you  say  softly :  "  Yes,  it  was 
rougher  for  Him.''  The  pain  cut 
deeper  .  .  .  yes,  this  same  sort  of 
pain.  He  knows.  He  understands. 
He  feets.  He  feels  with  you.  He 
suffers  with  you.  He  has  come  to 
help.  Let  Him.  Learn  to  spend 
the  day  with  Him.  That  will 
brighten  this  "little  while  between." 

"  Let  the  little  while  between 
In  the  golden  light  be  seen." 

Lean  on  Him.    He's  here. 
Readers      of      Robert       Louis 
86 


The  Pilot's  Face 

Stevenson  will  remember  that 
in  one  of  his  books  he  tells  the 
story  of  a  ship  at  sea  in  a  severe 
storm.  Things  had  got  into 
desperate  shape. 

And  now  the  storm  is  driving 
the  ship  toward  the  coast,  which 
means  certain  wreckage  of  the 
ship,  and  possibly  death  for  most 
of  crew  and  passengers. 

The  passengers  are  all  below, 
and  sternly  forbidden  to  attempt 
the  deck.  The  hatches  are  all 
fastened  securely  down.  And 
there,  huddled  together,  with  only 
the  dreadful  noises  of  the  storm 
and  the  distressing  pitch  and  toss 
of  the  boat,  and  the  close  foul 
87 


The  Pilot's  Face 

air  that  can  hardly  be  breathed, 
the  passengers  are  in  great  bodily 
discomfort  and  mental  distress. 
They  are  surely  going  down. 

Above,  everything  is  tied  up 
that  can  be  tied,  the  decks  are 
washed  by  the  furious  waves,  and 
forward  the  pilot  is  lashed 
securely  with  ropes  at  the  wheel, 
that  he  may  not  be  washed  away 
while  he  tries  to  guide  the  wheel 
and  turn  the  ship  out  into  safe 
waters.  It  is  a  most  distressing 
scene. 

Then  a  venturesome  passenger 

manages    to    elude    officers    and 

crew,   finds    a   way  up    on    deck, 

and     with     great     difficulty     he 

88 


The  Pilot's  Face 

creeps  along  the  smooth  slippery 
deck,  holding  as  best  he  can 
here  and  there,  until  finally  he 
manages  to  get  within  sight  of 
the  pilot. 

Yes,  the  pilot  is  still  there. 
That's  something.  And  as  he 
gripped  hard  to  the  rail  he 
thought  he  could  half  see  through 
blinding  dash  of  wave  and  spray 
that,  slowly,  little  by  little,  the 
wheel  was  turning  the  ship  out 
from  the  coast  toward  the  deep 
water. 

Just  then  the  pilot  seemed  to 
feel  the  presence  of  someone, 
and  glancing  over  saw  the  man 
so   intently  watching    him.      And 

89 


The  Pilot's  Face 

a  smile  lit  up  his  tired,  set  face 
for  a  moment. 

Quickly  as  he  could,  the  man 
crept  back  the  length  of  the 
slippery  deck,  and  down  below; 
and  as  he  reached  the  crowd  of 
huddling  passengers  in  the  dark 
and  damp  of  their  close  quarters 
cried  out,  "/  have  seen  the  face  of 
the  pilot;   and  he  smiled^* 

The  story  tells  its  own  tale  to 
us  just  now.  It  ts  a  tremendous 
storm  that  is  raging  now.  The 
ship  seems  headed  straight  for  a 
rocky  coast.  The  wreckage  will 
be  terrific  beyond  any  experience 
yet,  if  the  ship  actually  strikes 
the  rocks. 

90 


The  Pilot's  Face 

And  we're  huddled  in  most  of 
us,  where  the  outlook  is  so  limited. 
Sometimes  it  seems  as  if  there 
were  no  outlook.  And  the  storm 
blinds  our  eyes.  And  our  per- 
sonal distress  seems  quite  beyond 
words. 

But  listen,  there  s  a  Pilot*  His 
hand  is  on  the  wheel,  steady  and 
firm.  And  if  we  may,  in  the  ven- 
ture of  a  child's  simple  faith,  creep 
out  and  look,  ^ive  can  see  His  face. 

For  it  is  always  turned  toward 
us.  And  He  is  smiling  quietly 
down  into  our  bewildered  eyes. 
And  we  can  say,  in  the  words  of 
the  venturesome  passenger,  "/ 
have  seen  the  face  of  the  Pilot  .  .  .  and 
91 


The  Pilot's  Face 

.  .  .  He  smiled.''  And  that  will  settle 
everything  for  us. 

For  He  knows  all.  And  He  sees 
the  sunshine  after  rain,  and  calm 
after  storm.  He  has  our  loved 
ones  up  in  the  sunlight  of  the 
homeland  with  the  Father. 

And  He  Himself  walks  close  by, 
saying  in  a  quiet  voice  with  a 
thrill  of  soft  music  in  it,  ^^  Be  of  good 
cheer,  I  am  here,'' 


92 


"After  the  wind  .  .  .  after  the  earthquake  .  .  .  after 
the  fire,  a  still  small  voice  (which  was  a  sound  of  gentle 
stillness)."—!  Kings  xix.  11-12  with  margin. 


"Drop  Thy  still  dews  of  quietness, 

Till  all  our  strivings  cease  : 
Take  from  our  souls  the  strain  and  stress  ; 
And  let  our  ordered  lives  confess 

The  beauty  of  Thy  peace. 

Breathe  through  the  pulses  of  desire 

Thy  coolness  and  Thy  balm  ; 
Let  sense  be  done,  let  flesh  retire, 
Speak  through  the  earthquake,  wind,  and  fire 

O,  still  small  voice  of  calm." 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"Then  are  they  glad  because  they  are  quiet ;  So. 
He  bringeth  them  unto  their  desired  haven."— Psalm 
cvii.  30. 


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